Standing on the fountain’s edge, Lyre kicked a chimera in the face as he slashed at another with a throwing knife. He hadn’t had a chance to activate his defensive weaves. Fending off all four was the best he could do.

He hopped backward, knives in one hand, and tossed a light-flare spell upward. The four chimeras flinched back, blinded. Unleashing another wave of aphrodesia into the nearest guard, he snarled, “Freeze.”

The daemon froze. Lyre sprang off the basin edge, shoved the chimera’s head up, and sank a knife into his jugular.

A crushing blow hit him in the back. He and the dying chimera crashed to the ground. He tried to roll but he was cornered against the fountain as the three furious chimeras lunged for him.

An invisible wave of sultry heat whooshed over him like an intangible wind. Burning desire seared his body and he needed to touch the source of that magnetic power.

Aphrodesia. But he was the only incubus here.

His distraction might have cost him his life if his opponents hadn’t been equally sidetracked. They turned away from him, fixating instead on—on Clio? Lyre jerked halfway up, his gaze snapping toward her. Scalding desire hit him again. The aphrodesia—it was coming from her. How?

Mimic. Apparently, her power wasn’t limited to copying spells and weaves.

She’d caught Eryx in her imitation aphrodesia, the daemon struck dumb and helpless, and the other chimeras were enthralled as well. Being female, her power was far more effective on male daemons than his was.

He was half caught too, but he’d been swayed by aphrodesia enough times that he could still think—and act.

Lurching to his feet, he grabbed the chain around his neck and activated a physical defense weave. Then he grabbed a chimera by the hair, pulled his head back, and cut his throat before they could react. No sense in wasting magic on a death spell when a blade worked just fine.

Shocked back to their senses, his two surviving opponents whipped around to face him, their black eyes glittering with rage.

If he hadn’t gotten a shield up, he wouldn’t have lasted long. With only two, they weren’t getting in each other’s way—and defending against them became more difficult.

Splitting up, they circled around him, striking from both sides at once. He flung out two trip spells, but he caught only one and the chimera recovered fast. Lyre retreated and they followed, staying close, giving him no space. He jumped back to evade a glowing blade and almost tripped on that damn chair. Its owner had moved away, steering clear of the fight, and Lyre didn’t have the luxury of worrying about Bastian.

Ducking a blow, Lyre sprang at the other chimera. A punch of aphrodesia startled the daemon, then Lyre grabbed the back of the chair and swung it. It smashed over the guard, who crumpled to the ground. Whirling on the other, Lyre struck with a fast binding spell. The chimera shielded, but Lyre’s spell snapped right over the barrier, pinning the daemon’s arms to his sides.

Lyre jumped back three steps, opening a space to pull his bow off his shoulder. An arrow was in his hand an instant later, and he activated the spell as he slapped it onto the bow for a point-blank shot that would go right through the chimera’s skull.

A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced away for an instant—and saw Clio fall in a shower of green sparks. Eryx lunged for her, his dagger arcing for her chest.

Lyre had three seconds to save her life, but the angle was wrong. He couldn’t shoot Eryx without hitting Clio.

Spitting a curse, he lifted his bow and loosed the arrow.

* * *

She’d miscalculated and now she would die.

Green sparks burst all around her. Bastian’s spell, cast from outside her line of vision, had struck her just when she’d found an opening in Eryx’s defense. A heady dose of aphrodesia hadn’t been enough to incapacitate the chimera warrior, but it had slowed him down. She’d been about to deal the final blow.

Then Bastian had struck her with a spell.

She fell backward, and Eryx was already closing in. Bastian’s cast sizzled over her, preventing her from retaliating. She had no weapons, no defense, no magic. She hit the pavement and Eryx’s dagger swung down. She flung her hands up in a futile block.

Out of nowhere, a glowing arrow flashed toward her—and struck her upraised hand.

A shriek erupted from her as the arrow lodged in the middle of her palm. Eryx’s blade stuttered, the chimera as surprised as her. Lyre had shot her. He’d shot her. He could hit the same spot on a moving target three times in a row, but he’d hit her?

The spell on the arrowhead blazed, and through her shock, understanding bloomed.

She clenched her hand around the arrow shaft, her vision going white from the pain. But she didn’t need to see. As Eryx descended on her, she thrust her hand up. The spelled point of the arrow hit him in the chest and sank right through his protective shield, right through his leather armor, right through his flesh.

He staggered backward, tearing the arrow out of his chest and wrenching her hand. She choked on a scream and yanked the bolt out of her palm. Her vision fizzled to white then to black, but she clung to consciousness. Dragging her head up, she found Eryx again. He clutched his chest, blood gushing over his fingers.

She staggered to her feet and flung a rough blast into his face. He crumpled to the ground and didn’t rise, grasping at the mortal wound as though he could hold on to life with his bare hands.

Stumbling with pain and exhaustion, she whipped around, taking in everything in one glance.

Golden light flared again as Lyre flung a spell at one chimera, knocking the daemon to the ground. In a blink, he’d flipped an arrow onto his bow, pulled it back, and fired. It struck the second chimera in the chest. A flutter of golden light, then the arrow exploded, opening a crater in the daemon’s torso as he fell.

Bastian stood in the center of the open space, holding a small object as green light danced over his fingers. Lyre snatched another arrow, pivoted on one foot, and brought the bow up—his black stare fixed on the prince.

Clio’s heart stopped. It just stopped. Bastian was her brother. He had betrayed her and tried to kill her, but he was still her brother. And Lyre was about to kill him.

Lyre’s arm drew back as though in slow motion and the arrowhead lit with a shield-piercing weave. His hand opened—and the last surviving guard tackled him in the legs.

The arrow whipped past Bastian’s head. Blood splattered and he jerked sideways as crimson spilled down the side of his face and stained his hair. He raised the object in his hand—a gemstone.

Clio’s gemstone.

The stone into which she’d woven one of Lyre’s powerful binding spells while fighting Eryx. Bastian had picked it up—and he’d repaired the weave.

Lyre slammed his bow into the chimera’s face and twisted free, but Bastian’s arm was already in motion. With one hand, he cast a glittering orb at Lyre, then tossed the glowing gem after it. The orb burst against Lyre, dissolving his defensive shield, and the gem clattered to the ground at his feet.

With a flash, the weaving activated. Electric power surged over him and the chimera, and they both collapsed to their knees, immobilized by the binding.

Clio stood frozen, as paralyzed as Lyre was.

Bastian hissed angrily. “Five of my best guards,” he complained as he slid his hand into his pocket. “Such a waste, incubus, and for no gain at all.”

He withdrew the KLOC and its key from his pocket. Smiling at Lyre helpless in the spell, he pushed the key into the back of the clock.

Her heart seized a second time. Bastian was going to test the KLOC by unleashing it on Lyre and his own guard. He wasn’t even going to test it in water. How could he be so careless? How could he be so selfish?

Her heart launched back into a frantic beat and she unclenched her bleeding hand. Magic sparked across her fingers.

Bastian glanced toward her as she flung the binding spell at him. He batted her cast out of the air like it was nothing more than a crumpled paper ball.

“Really, Clio?” he asked, his voice soft and dangerous in a way she’d never heard before. “You wish to fight me?”

“You can’t use the clock spell,” she said hoarsely.

“I can do whatever I please. You cannot stop me.”

Who was this daemon? He wasn’t the prince she’d thought she knew. “You’re putting the realms at risk.”

He shrugged and tucked the KLOC back into his pocket, the motion almost hiding the way green light sparked up his arm.

She cast the master-weaver shield and his spell exploded against it. Dissolving the barrier, she began two more casts. Across from her, Bastian began to cast as well. She hurled back-to-back attacks.

He cast the same shield she’d used. That fast, he had mimicked it.

Her spells exploded harmlessly against it. Jaw clenched, she began to cast again. Light flickered over her fingers as the same glow danced over Bastian’s hands. As much of her attention was on his spellwork as on her own as she tried to anticipate his casts before he finished them.

But he could anticipate hers too.

She threw spell after spell and he countered them all. Magic exploded in the space between them, the concussion blowing her hair back from her face. She cast again, using the rarest spells she knew to catch him off guard.

But he had organized most of her education. He knew almost everything she did—and more.

A wave of magic nullified her last cast, and then the spell in his other hand shot toward her. It hit the ground at her feet and burst. The blast hurled her backward and she landed hard, pain flaring through her joints. Gasping, she rolled over and staggered to her feet.

Green light glimmered over his hands. She flung a shield in front of her, but his first cast obliterated it and the second one exploded against her chest. She skidded across the rough pavement.

Her head spinning, she pushed up on shaking arms. She’d barely staggered to her feet when his next spell hit her. She tumbled across the ground, coming to a stop on her belly.

Footsteps crunched as Bastian walked toward her. She raised her head, struggling to make her arms and legs move. Only a few feet away, Lyre was still immobilized. She had fallen at the edge of the binding spell that held him prisoner, a constant stream of electric magic crackling over the ground.

Bastian’s footsteps stopped beside her. “Kindly stay there for a minute, Clio, hmm? Just one minute.”

Metal clicked above her. Panting and dizzy from pain, she lifted her head. Bastian stood at her side, blood drenching his face, as he grasped the key sticking out of the clock. The gears ground loudly in the otherwise quiet park as he wound it.

Tremors ran through her body as she wiggled her arm forward. Her bloody fingers touched the glowing green edge of the binding circle.

The gears clicked. The clock was wound.

Digging her fingernails into the pavement, she cut through the circle with her magic and the binding spell evaporated—just as Bastian pulled the key out of the clock and the countdown began.